“I hope this will help you find peace. I understand you’ve been through difficult times yourself.” Hollister was Lawrence’s friend, so it wasn’t clear if he meant the fact that she’d had to kill a man, twice, or something entirely different.

  “Thank you. I’m fine.”

  “I don’t practice anymore, but there are a lot of good people in this field. We were able to keep Mary on a good path. There is help for you too, even at your age.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I should have known something was wrong when my father was so eager to get me to see a psychiatrist. No thanks. I’m getting married soon.”

  “If you ever change your mind, I could give you a list of colleagues that deal with this very kind of thing.”

  With an incredulous laugh, Joanna got up to leave, Rue following her. There was nothing more to learn here.

  * * * *

  “Can you believe this guy? ‘Even at your age.’ What is wrong with him?”

  “Too many things to name.” Rue leaned in for a surprisingly passionate kiss when they were in the car. Or perhaps it wasn’t surprising at all. Something good had to come out of this meddling of sad, petty men.

  Mary had a life. Joanna did. Regardless of people who thought that for wanting just that, something about them needed to be fixed. She was almost ashamed at ever having doubts about Mary’s state of mind. The story still had too many holes, but given what she knew, Mary had reason to be cautious to the point of paranoid. It ran in the family, maybe, but it might also have to do with knowing Lawrence Mitchell.

  “Let’s go home,” she said. “Do something that would have gotten us into a psych ward.”

  Rue leaned back into her seat, her face flushed with excitement.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  * * * *

  Long after Rue had fallen asleep that night, Joanna sat up, wrestling once again with the thoughts that continued to plague her no matter who they were talking to. Half-truths, flat-out lies, much of it wrapped in bigotry and prejudice.

  She used to be better at identifying those and catching the other side in a contradiction—as a cop, as an inmate doing what it took to survive.

  She had found some of Mary’s songs in the internet, someone who had put up snippets from a show. It never ceased to amaze her that this treasure trove of information had been out there for this long.

  Maybe she had been ignorant. Maybe, and that was disturbing to admit, she was more like Lawrence, because he had been the parent who’d been longest in her life. Jaded, expecting the worst of people. That might be why she was so torn between the varying versions of the story. She thought she could tap into that time when Mary was around, loving, reliable, but instead she was a grown woman who had accumulated experiences of disappointment and betrayal. That did sound like Lawrence, expect some of the betrayal was imaginary in his case.

  Joanna wasn’t gay just to spite him.

  But if Mary had cheated on him for real?

  With headphones, as not to wake Rue, she listened to the haunting tunes in the dark, with her cell phone’s screen the only light. The quality wasn’t stellar, but it was enough to convey the emotion, to hit her. It was much of what she hadn’t allowed herself to feel, since, for the longest time, she’d felt her life could only go one way.

  She could have a real life now, a future, with Rue by her side, back at home…Real, and stable, perhaps she still wasn’t sure what to do with that. Sometimes, when they made love, she’d still cling to her as if it might be the last chance before they had to go separate ways again.

  After all the time they’d spent together, Joanna was more than ever aware that someone staying, with her, in her life, was still a fragile concept.

  * * * *

  At first, she thought the sharp knock on the door was for the guests next door, even though it sounded alarmingly close. Joanna took off the headphones the moment a voice yelled, “Police! Open the door!”

  “It must be a mistake,” she said to Rue who was wide awake, her expression shell-shocked. “I’m coming!” Joanna quickly put on her robe and tied the belt around her waist before she went to open the door. Within seconds, she went from her quiet night time activity back into the nightmare.

  “What the hell are you doing? What are you doing?”

  Rue’s angry voice sounded like it came from far away, or under water. So did the other voices,

  “Joanna Mitchell? You need to come with us.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “I’m Detective Masters.” She turned to the man in the long coat who was flashing his badge in her face. “Dr. Richard Hollister was found dead. We believe he was murdered.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

  “For now, we’d like to follow us to the station, just to talk. We know you were at his house today.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Rue intervened. “We have nothing to do with this. You can’t make her!”

  “Not yet, but it would be better for you if you cooperated.” Masters was talking to Joanna. “You could take your chances, but the next time, I’ll come back with a warrant.”

  She knew by heart what came next. Even if she wanted to, Joanna wasn’t sure she’d be able to form words at this moment.

  She was sure that the murderer knew a lot more than any of them did, about what Lawrence and Hollister had done, about Mary’s story. Eventually they’d unravel all these ties.

  “Can I just put on some clothes? I swear I won’t try to run. There’s no window in that bathroom.”

  One officer went inside to check, and, obviously satisfied with what he’d seen, he nodded. She couldn’t afford to be drawn into the past. This was nothing like it. Joanna hurried to put on underwear, socks, jeans and a sweater, her motions quick and mechanic. She needed to think. Reality was fleeting, the situation triggering memories, drawing her all the way back to the time Vanessa Young had knocked on her door, accompanied by two uniformed officers.

  “I’m not sure how I can help you,” she said when she returned to the room.

  “Let’s talk about this downtown,” Masters said.

  “Just a second, please. Rue, don’t worry. We’ll clear this up.”

  “What do I do?” Rue asked in panic.

  “Take a deep breath. Call Theo, and I’ll deal with the rest.”

  “Ma’am,” the detective reminded her. “Ms. Carmichael, we might need to talk to you as well. Don’t leave town.”

  Two murders, one shooting in her immediate vicinity. She would have brought herself in.

  Chapter Seven

  Her mind was spinning. It all came down to the can of worms she’d opened just because she wanted to have a conversation with her mother in the present. Joanna didn’t think she’d be in this interrogation room for long, though part of her wondered if this had been unavoidable. People looked at her, treated her differently when they learned she’d killed a murderer.

  Only Rue had never treated her differently.

  She couldn’t afford to get distracted.

  The detective returned to the room, carrying a cup of coffee.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  She almost smiled. Joanna knew every tactic in the book. He’d try to soften her up, get her to talk. This man was obviously underestimating her.

  “No, I’d prefer we’d get this over with quickly. I don’t need a lawyer. Rue and I met with Dr. Hollister earlier today. He was very much alive when we left.”

  “Why did you meet him?”

  “He’s a retired psychiatrist as you know. He treated my mother a long time ago. According to what he said, my parents had both given him consent to share some of her medical history with me.”

  “Isn’t that unusual?”

  “Well, he’s the doctor. I was under the impression that he knew what he was doing.”

  “Were you angry at him?”

  “No. Why would I be? I wanted to know more about my mother. My father gave me Dr. Hollister’s number, and he agreed to talk to us. We didn’t learn much, but that’s not a reason to kill someone.”

  “What is a good reason to kill someone, Joanna?”

  “Excuse me?” she said, starting to get irritated with his approach. They couldn’t have anything on her, except Joanna’s and Rue’s prints in the house. They were probably the last ones to see him alive, save for the killer, and someone had seen them leave.

  “If they hurt women, that would be a reason, right? Because you care, and you’ve killed a predator, a serial killer. No, wait, that makes two.”

  “Wow. You studied up on me. I’d be impressed, except that’s all easy to find. If you know who these men were and what they did, you already know that Hollister was nothing like that.”

  “What about if you think someone hurt women? If you thought he hurt your mother, would that be a reason for you?”

  Joanna sat back, dumbfounded for a moment.

  “Now you sound like one of those conspiracy theorists with a blog and a social media account. Hollister was a doctor. He treated my mother. I didn’t lay a hand on him.”

  “You were questioned as a witness in the Terry Dillon murder, is that right?”

  “Oh come on. I didn’t know the man. We were about to leave the concert venue when we heard a scream. We only went back to find my mother and make sure she was okay. You might want to check with Detective Kato.”

  “And just a few days ago, former IA Inspector Vanessa Young was shot literally sitting across the table from you.”

  “Vanessa is my friend!” She made no more effort to hide her exasperation. “Why would I want to get her killed? That makes no sense. I see what you’re looking at, two people dead, and one in the hospital. My name comes up each time, so that’s not something you can ignore. But I swear the pattern you’re looking for is elsewhere. Someone is looking to hurt Mary. I’ve heard from several people that she had a long-time stalker. You find him, you’ll likely solve those murders.”

  The detective drank from his cup, a wry smile playing over his lips. “Well, thank you for your help, Ms. Mitchell. That’s indeed an interesting alternative theory. But perhaps the pattern I’m looking at is you trying to get back at people who hurt you, and your mother, and, by proxy, abusers at large.”

  Joanna shook her head.

  “You tell me you didn’t know Dr. Hollister had a history of committing young women whenever their husbands wanted to keep them in line?”

  Joanna sat up straighter.

  “No, I didn’t know that. All the information I had was what little he and my father told me.”

  “You didn’t think they might have treated her unfairly?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that question.

  “Terry Dillon, PI undercover as band crew member, had been in court for domestic violence a couple of times, went to prison when he violated several restraining orders.”

  “That’s news to me too, and I’m sure Mary wasn’t aware.”

  “Ms. Young stopped you in your tracks when you had just found your vocation to rid the world of evil.”

  “You’re still wrong.”

  “Am I? Why are you still here, Joanna?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “You have a life somewhere else, don’t you? The governor pardoned you. You could have just packed your bags and go back home, but you decided to stay. To tie up lose ends?”

  “I wouldn’t have that life if it wasn’t for Vanessa. I owe her. I’d never hurt her!”

  “Okay. Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested. “Still nothing I can get you?”

  “If this means you’ll want to go around in circles some more, yes, I want a coffee. I didn’t kill anyone, or have anyone killed.”

  “All right.”

  “Milk and sugar please.”

  After he’d left, she sank back into the chair, exhausted. Of course there were cameras, but she didn’t want to show any weakness while he was still in the room.

  The worst of it all? His theory made sense to some extent. She’d never thought about hurting Vanessa. But she could never turn away from abuse either. Perhaps, for a split second, it had felt good to end the lives of a couple of sadistic killers.

  * * * *

  “Relax, take a breath. I’ll make some calls, and this will go away, I promise you.” Theo’s calm reaction was a relief. At the same time, Rue felt angry that anyone could be calm about this big scary mess.

  “Will you get back to me right away?”

  “Of course. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

  “Why would they think they can arrest her? We were in the doctor’s house, we talked, and we left.”

  She hated that Theo paused for a few seconds.

  “Let me get on this. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”

  After they’d ended the call, Rue, already dressed, picked up her coat and purse and left the hotel room. At the reception desk, she asked the concierge to call her a cab.

  She was lucky in all of this, privileged that there was somewhere she could go in the middle of the night, scared out of her mind.

  Her father opened the door to her, looking worried. He was dressed in a robe over PJs. Rue had prepared what she was going to say, but all she could do was stumble into his embrace, crying as she struggled to explain what had happened.

  Not only could she come here at this time of night and be welcomed. Her parents were a steady supportive presence in her life, and they had never judged her for being in love with a complicated woman.

  While she was aware that likely neither of them was to blame for the immediate chaos they’d been thrown into, once more, Rue was angry at Mary and Lawrence Mitchell, because they never cared to provide Joanna with the same safety.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  * * * *

  She might be in denial, or Joanna simply hadn’t come to terms with the gravity of her situation yet. They hadn’t touched knives, or anything that could be constituted as a weapon in Hollister’s house. Joanna had left her gun back on the island when Theo asked them to come to the city.

  Why was she still here?

  The detective had informed her that her lawyer was on the way before he left her. Even that didn’t strike her as unusual. Rue would have contacted Theo by now, he and Vanessa knew whom to call. This would all be over in a matter of hours.

  Wouldn’t it?

  She leaned back in her chair, covering a yawn with her hand. It had been a while already, and she struggled to find a semi-comfortable position in the hard chair.

  This incident was one more sign to guide her into the right direction. Rue didn’t need this. Joanna didn’t need this. She’d have to say goodbye to Mary, and stop chasing ghosts. She’d also have to lean a bit harder on Vanessa to inquire what she’d meant about those powerful men watching Mary, make sure she was safe.

  Then they could finally go home. Get married. It had become a faraway, almost unreachable dream. If they weren’t careful, it might slip out of reach altogether.

  She sat up straighter when the door opened, suppressing a relieved sigh when Theo walked in. Joanna’s relief didn’t last long. She saw his concerned expression, and she didn’t like it.

  “The lawyer’s here.”

  “Lawyer? What lawyer?”

  “Vanessa pulled some strings, and that’s all you need to know. Listen to me, you do what she says, no straying from the script. This is important.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Believe me, I want to get this over with as soon as possible. But this is all just a formality, right? My dad told us to see Dr Hollister.”

  Theo was the one to sigh.

  “I wish this wasn’t the one time you listened to him. Governor O’Neal had your back that last time, because frankly, we all should have. This is different.”

  “I’m aware. What the hell are you saying? I didn’t kill the guy. Yes, he probably locked up my mother when he had no grounds except that Lawrence told him to—”

  “Joanna, stop. This is serious. As I said, this lawyer will help you get things straightened out, but you have to do as she says. This is a courtesy from Detective Masters. I shouldn’t even be in this room.”

  “Theo, wait. What do they have—or think they have?”

  “I can’t talk right now. I’ll see you later.”

  She’d tried to do the right thing, and now people thought of her as some self-appointed avenger. It couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  She longed for peace so much.

  * * * *

  “Later” turned out to be early the next morning, but at least Theo had good news: Joanna could go home.

  “What did you tell them?” The private attorney Vanessa had sent appeared competent to her, but even so, this was soon. What kind of network had Vanessa cultivated over time?

  “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, that’s what I’m telling you. I’m serious. Go home…There are people waiting for you on this other side of this door.”

  Masters was unhappy, she could tell, but he let her and Theo pass and leave the room. Exhausted beyond measure, Joanna stumbled along the hallway after Theo, and through a couple of double doors into a waiting area.

  Seeing an equally tired-looking Rue immediately lifted her spirits. She let herself be drawn into a close embrace.

  “Hey, can I borrow her for a second?” This was a happy surprise. Rue had not only thought of getting Theo involved, she had also contacted an old friend of Joanna’s.

  Kira wrapped her into a firm hug even as she chided, “What did I tell you about staying out of trouble?”

  * * * *

  She would have liked to have a hot shower and crawl into bed, stay there for the foreseeable future until it was time to go home. Joanna was aware she couldn’t do it, with everyone around her still expecting explanations. She wasn’t sure she had any.

  She was most grateful for Rue and Kira—as much as she managed to still keep herself upright, something inside felt brittle, about to snap.

  “I think Theo will want to have a word,” Rue said, “but he’s agreed to meet at the hotel. We all go, you can change and we have breakfast?”

 

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